A Dangerous Man
by Wah-Keetcha
Summary: Before Leverage Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. It's Back! sorry!
1. Chapter 1

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note: **Newest story from me, thought about this while I was finishing up _Decisions that I Make_ and decided to play with it. I love Eliot and had two story ideas but chose to actually _post_ this one. Keep in mind this is between Nathan and Eliot (as enemies or friends, cohorts) _before_ Nathan's son dies and Eliot is hired for the Nigerian Job.

Thought it'd be fun. Please sit back and enjoy the first chapter and if you deem the fic worthy leave a review!

**Chapter One: **Heist!

**(Nate)**

Thomas Kincade, my senior partner plops down at his desk beside me, his hands roaming over a manila file he had been carrying. An older man, Thomas was a veteran Insurance cop and a decent guy. Short cropped graying hair and piercing green eyes make Thomas look like he belongs in the CIA, not working for IYS.

"Here ya go kid." I frown at the nickname, being thirty nine I am at least seven years his junior, which automatically gave me the name 'kid'. I'm okay with it though, since Kincade took me under his wing three years ago the man has become like a second father, teaching me everything there is to know about profiling and catching thieves that threaten the items insured through IYS. Flipping open the file I scan through it, eyes widening at the details of the heist.

"The Golden Maharaja was stolen from Sotheby's jewel sale while it was in transport from the holding vault to the show room floor. That's a large jewel, thing is worth what, around one-point-three million dollars?" I ask, glancing over at Kincade who only laughs and sips his coffee.

"Nate, the Golden Maharaja was originally _sold_ for that much, it's _insured_ through IYS for double that, if not triple. Also, it's not the only rock to be stolen during the show. Keep reading." I scan further down and can't help but widen my eyes in shock

"The Spirit of de Grisogono, pride of a private collector was also stolen when the guarded courier was 'rolled' by a mysterious attacker who proceeded to take down the three hired muscle before taking off with the stone." I look over at Kincade and narrow my eyes, knowing that not everything was placed in the report but probably passed along the side to be present before Kincade.

"Both stones were stolen by the same person. One of the guards who was present for both thefts accounted to the fact that a 'long haired individual' was the thief at _both_ heists. Thing that gets me is that there isn't any fancy rigs or showy moves to his thefts, he just simply swoops in, beats down some guys and skips out with the merchandise and to be able to hit the same show twice, he's either really stupid or has balls of steel." He states with admiration lining his voice and I groan. Anyone that gains my partner's respect this early on in a case is bound to be a lot of trouble.

"Have that at least profiled the guy yet?" I ask, flipping further into the file, finding nothing else known about the thief that a composite sketch conducted by the local police. I stare at the drawing of the youthful man, obviously much younger than myself. It's unusual for a person _that_ young to already be pulling big heists like this one, most of the time thieves are taken under the wing of an older person, often pulling small heists to make a name for themselves, however, this man seems to be pulling the large jobs without a name.

Highly unusual.

The thing that strikes me about the man in the drawing is his eyes, even presented with a drawing I can almost _feel_ the danger lurking in the drawn grey orbs. His face isn't round like a very young man but nor is it wrinkled with age of an older man. Stubborn mouth and stubble add to the 'outlaw' look along with the shoulder length hair and slender eyebrows.

"So, what do you think?" Kincade asks and I look up from the picture and shrug, unsure of truly what to make of the man.

"I'm interested in meeting the man with no name, finding out who he is and maybe getting a profile going. Where do you want to start?" I ask and Kincade stands, pulling his blazer on

"Let's take a ride down to Sotheby's and speak with that guard." I nod and stand, putting my own blazer on and grabbing the file before following after my older partner.

**(Eliot)**

"Listen, I went through a lot of trouble to get both those diamonds within the time span you set; now you're cutting my price?" I snarl into the phone, my head swimming with the new information. On the other end my employer, the man who requested my skills to retrieve the two diamonds speaks slowly and deliberately

"Mr. Spencer, you drew far too much attention to the fact that you _stole_ the diamonds. How will it look when those diamonds show up in my collection after you made such a commotion?" His accent cuts sharply over the phone and I growl softly, annoyance twisting at my stomach.

"Mr. Anderson, I will be paid the set price we agreed on at our first meeting or your precious merchandise ends up in the river and you will never see them again." I respond allowing the icy edge to develop on my words, allowing the man to know my anger. The other end is paused for a moment before his words cut sharply through the line

"Should you not deliver those diamonds tonight at the agreed place, you will be a dead man Mr. Spencer. Mark my words boy, I do not make my threats lightly." The line goes dead, leaving me holding the small phone in one hand and clenching my other fist in anger. Sitting down on the couch provided in the hotel room and sigh, running a hand over my face before staring up at the ceiling, it's not the first time I've been screwed out of money after the job is already been done, nor will it be last I figure. My stomach growls and I am reminded of the fact that I haven't eaten since last night and give in. Gathering up my hair and tying it back I stand, grabbing my wallet and keycard from the dresser. Stepping out I close the door tightly and place a toothpick in the jam, a habit I picked up while traveling with my unit.

Saved my life a few times.

Heading down the hallway to the lift I wait patiently and readjust my cap, making sure the brim hide my eyes, knowing that one of the guardsmen I took out last night most likely recognized me. The elevator dings and the doors open as I step inside, pressing the ground floor button I cross my arms, waiting for the lift to move.

**(Nate)**

"Mr. Francis, my partner and I were wondering if we could ask you some questions." Kincade calls to the man moving through the foyer of the grand hotel the show took place in, his dark blue blazer marked with the insignia of his employer. The man turns and smiles slightly, a large bruise marring his face.

"Questions about what Mr..?" Kincade smiles and produces the passport type identification card as I pull my own out. I am investigator Kincade and this is my partner Investigator Ford, we work for the insurance company that insured both The Golden Maharaja and The Spirit of de Grisogono. We want to ask you some questions about the man who attacked you." Francis looks at the cards and nods, leading us over to a hallway out of the way of the clean up.

"I told the police all I could, sat with a sketch artist too." He says, licking his lips nervously

"Yes, but we wanted to get your _personal_ thoughts on the man. See we're trying to profile him so we can match his style with any other heists." I explain and pull out a pad of paper and a pen from my breast pocket, clicking the pen smartly.

"All I can say is that he's a skilled fighter, probably professionally trained. I was a Navy SEAL for little over nine years before retiring and I've only met a handful of other men who could fight like this guy." He remarks, shaking his head. Intrigued I press the man for more information

"What types of men were these people Mr. Francis?" Kincade looks at me crossly but I ignore it, you never know what type of information might be useful.

"The group I met were a rowdy bunch, very paranoid and quick to anger. They never stayed in one place very long, always traveling. This man reminded me of that group, all business and ruthless as he took out my friends. The one thing I do remember very distinctly was his size and his eyes. A bright almost icy blue, don't think I've ever seen eyes like that on a man." He says before adding quietly

"Like the eyes of a dead man." A shiver seems to run through the security officer and I cast Kincade a look. My partner shifts and puts his hands in his blazer pocket

"You mentioned his size? What does that have to do with anything?" he presses and Mr. Francis seems to snap and he nods

"Small guy, only about five foot eight, maybe ten." He says, making a hand motion roughly the man's height. I mark that down as well and replace the pen and paper.

"Well thank you for your help Mr. Francis." I smile and Kincade shakes his hand before allowing the man to tend to his duties. Turning I glance at my older partner and smile

"What? I want to be thorough." He snorts as we head back to the car. Pulling my door open I glance at Kincade

"Are you hungry?" the older man smiles and starts up the car.

"Yeah, I know just the place kid, get in." I sit and slam the door as Kincade pulls back out into traffic.

Kincade knows the best places to eat and also the best places to pick up informants.

**Author Note: **Next chapter up soon, sorry about the many OC's but I needed other people to work around Nate and stuff. If they start getting unbelievable tell me and I will try to change it, sometimes I get carried away and I _hate_ mary-sue type characters so _please_ tell me.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note: **Second chapter for you! This story will take a while to get going since it's not really based off anything in particular other than Nate and Eliot and Nate having chased Eliot at some point. Just for fun I made Eliot have a bit of a psych problem, since he's very Anti-social in the show, but don't worry, all will be explained as the story goes on. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Chapter Two: ** Information

**(Eliot) **

Deciding to forgo pulling out the truck and trying to maneuver through the thick lunch time traffic I exit out of the hotel and head down the street. The side walks are not as thick with human congestion like the roadways are, filled with the occasional group of school cutting teenagers and errand running businessmen I don't encounter much trouble. Passing by a group of gaggling teenage girls I keep my eyes straight ahead, avoiding the blocky letter printed across their butts but smile to myself at the whispered comments of 'oh damn' and such. Speeding on ahead at a quick pace I make sure to avoid anyone who looks suspicious. People are easy to read, their muscles coil in a different way for every action, and there are always subtle hints with their eyes or hands to tell me of their intent. Like the man ahead of me, acting like he's talking on his cell phone but looking directly behind me at the group of distracted teens. Dressed in baggy pants and a beanie the kid looks remarkably like every would-be thief out there. Knowing his intent by the shift of his eyes and the nervous lick of his lips I stop and draw his attention to me, his brown eyes catching mine.

With a nervous shudder the kid high tails it out of the area, heading back down the alleyway he slithered out from. Nodding to myself I carry on, heading for the downtown business district. As I cross the last street separating the busy and overpopulated business district from the other area of the city I can almost feel my body start to hum with sensitivity. Every person I pass may be an enemy, every thrust of a hand or movement of an arm may bring forth a weapon. Every person I pass and anyone close to me as I wind my way through the mass could be the next one to kill me.

The military psych doctor diagnosed me and most of the men in my unit with a type of Post Traumatic Paranoia. I scoffed at that and refused to take the drugs the doctor prescribed having seen what the other members of the unit turned into after taking them. I disagreed with the doctors diagnosis and when asked by my superior officers I told them straight out that the only thing I suffer from is being twenty-three and already having a confirmed 'kill sheet' of over seventy people and having watched the darker side of war not shown in the movies.

My superiors promptly agreed and discharged me.

"Hot dogs! Pretzels!" A vendor shouts, drawing me out of my moody musings. Glancing around I find myself among the fancy business men and women, their mouths moving rapidly as they chat on their phones or quickly chewing down their lunch. I shudder at the idea of having to do an honest day's living, sitting up in those stuffy offices in those high quality clothes and dealing with people who are more like robots than humans.

Nope, I'll take my blue jeans and my thieving ways thanks.

Stepping up to one of the many vendors lining the walkway I glance quickly up at the sign and pull out the bills.

"Can I get a bottle of water and a salad?" I ask and the man behind the counter nods, retrieving the requested items and putting them up on the counter.

"That'll be seven." He says, already listening to the bossy man in the beige blazer and dress pants behind me. Handing the man the bills I wave at him to keep the change and pick up my food, turning around and running into another man's navy colored shoulder. With a mumbled apology I glance up, finding the other man's eyes wide but a frown on his features.

"Got a problem?" I growl and move away, filing the man's face away for later use if need be. The man replies with a soft 'nothing' but I'm already heading in the opposite direction, towards the small park.

**(Nate)**

Alimony Al is rumored to be a rich man but lives on the street to avoid having to pay child support on his rumored many kid. No one is really sure _how_ many kids Alimony Al has, but it's rumored to be up to about twelve now. Amongst being a dead-beat dad Alimony Al is also one of Kincade's most trusted informants and if anyone knows about this young thief it would be Al. The business district is his haunt these days so we parked the car and threw ourselves into the throng of business executives and money managers, stopping briefly at a food vendor to get ourselves from lunch and a special 'incentive' for Al to give us the information we want. The man in front of Kincade was just finishing paying when we arrived and I bump shoulders with him accidently. The man mumbles an apology as he looks at me. I frown, the accent telling me he's not from this region. Bright, icy blue eyes snap onto mine and I am puzzled for a moment, caught off guard by the hostility and am stunned when he growls

"Got a problem?" before shoving his way past me and back into the crowd of people, his shoulders tensed with annoyance. I watch the long haired man disappear for a moment before turning back to Kincade who is holding two Hot Dogs with everything and a brown, greasy paper bag.

"Let's go see Al." he says simply and hands me my lunch. I take a bite out of it and wince at the sharp tingle of mustard and relish. Walking through the now thinning crowd I listen for the strumming of Al's six strings. Faintly I can hear the music over the din of voices and street traffic and nudge Kincade, indicating the direction with a thrust of my head. Together we finish the quick lunch and then head for the strumming, rounding a corner into the public sitting area. Beside one of the fountains sits Alimony Al strumming along on his black guitar. We approach slowly and wait patiently for the song to end before catching the man's attention.

"Thank you all for your generosity… thank you." Al presents the few people gathered around as they throw some spare coins into the guitar case. His hawk like eyes zero in on Kincade and he cocks and eyebrow, putting the guitar on the ground beside him.

"Figured I'd bee seeing you boys at some point today." He smiles, teeth graying from lack of care and beard scraggly. Kincade wordlessly hands the vagabond the bag of food and Al swipes it with greedy hands, peering down at the contents.

"Ahhh…. Hot Onion rings. You must really need some information to have bought me onion rings." Al laughs, a sickly sound of phlegm and bad air.

"Yes, regarding the newest thief on the scene, the one who hit the Jewel sale last night." Kincade says, putting his hands on his hips. Al takes a greasy onion ring and pops it into his mouth, chewing loudly before answering

"Ah yes, the upstart. Remember old Morgan? He's the one who trained this boy." I blink at that, knowing Randy Morgan retrieval specialist extraordinaire went off the IYS radar a little over two years ago. Two years is still too short of a time for this kid to be that skilled in the ways of stealing.

"Hmm… Morgan always does train them nicely, but from what I've been told this kid has some talents of his own, what are they Al?" Kincade asks as another onion ring is plucked from inside the bag.

"A brawler from what I know, skilled in the ways of hand to hand and knife. Been here before, did that job back in the winter with the statue over at the museum." Al says slowly, swallowing his food.

"The Egyptian one? He stole that?" Kincade asks, a bit of amazement leaking into his voice. I roll my eyes, that case had been given to Sterling to figure out and catch the thief, needless to say the little fool hadn't managed to apprehend our jewel thief.

"We need a name Al." Kincade suddenly presses and I watch as the vagabond thinks about this for a moment and finally relents

"Since you asked nicely Thomas. I will tell you what I know." He says, placing the brown bag beside him and wiping his greasy fingers on his already too dirty pants.

"Eliot Spencer is what he goes by, pretty studious for a common retrieval specialist. From what I've been told he's a private contract only, pretty pricy too but willing to do just about anything. Something wrong with him though, my sources tell me he's got some kind of record with the head hunters, not sure what exactly." I sigh and look at Kincade who shakes his head, I remember to write 'possible psychopath' in the file when we get back to the car.

"Anything else?" Kincade asks and Al only nods

"Oh yes. I haven't seen the kid, but from what I've been hearing he has eyes like a Siberian devil, icy blue and filled with malice. Also, the job he pulled last night the drop and exchange is supposed to happen tonight down at the warehouses. That's all I know, so, good day gentlemen." Al says and effectively gathers up his 'donations', guitar and food and walks away, heading for a new area. I look at Kincade who runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a sigh.

"Alright, back to the office. Let's see what Bryon can dig up on this guy and then head down to the docks, see if we can get our merchandise back." I nod and fall into step beside the older man.

**Author Note: **Alimony Al is based off a real person I knew as a kid. I tried to figure out a good name for an informant and this one popped into my head. Anyways, please review and I will update again soon! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note: **Thank you to those who have reviewed! I don't claim to be a good writer and I know I get my you your and you're confused but considering I'm an HTML geek I think I do fairly good. I try to catch my errors but sometimes they slip by me and I apologize. I don't mean for this to sound catty so forgive me if it does, but I do try and catch any mistakes and like anyone else on here I'm not looking to be a professional author, just here for the enjoyment and stress relief of writing.

Please enjoy this chapter and review if you deem it worthy.

**Chapter Three:** Ambush

**(Eliot) **

Returning to my hotel I stop at the main desk, smiling a greeting to the clerk.

"Any messages for me Jose?" I ask and the man nods, making a one moment sign before reaching under the counter and returning with a large envelope.

"Here you go Mr. Erwin." I take the offered envelope and nod to the man before heading for the elevator. The lift dings closed behind me and although I'm curious to see what is exactly in the envelope I wait until I am in the privacy of my own room. The lift stops on my floor and I head for my room, pulling the keycard from my pocket. Glancing up at the toothpick I nod to myself and pull it out of the jam before swiping my card. The door clicks open and I push the handle down before jumping away from the door jam as the door swings open. I listen carefully but there are no sounds from the interior and I cautiously peer around the corner, finding the room empty and the way I left it. With a casual shake I stride into the room and close the door behind me.

One can never be too careful, that's why I always stay at this hotel whenever I'm in town. I have the staff basically trained. The cleaning staff knows to leave my room untouched while Jose the day clerk and Brendon the night clerk know not to ask questions when I come in at weird times and know to screen any visitors that come in asking for me.

They know this because I tip them_ very_ well.

Of course with every patron to the hotel that's a bit eccentric the rumor mill among the staff runs nearly non-stop and for a person of my profession being spoken about on the sly tends not to be good for business. As it is I have several hotels across the United States and some in Europe who think I am a James Bond type spy or a royal heir. Little do they realize that I'm simply a common thief and that their local treasures are stolen by the well tipping if not highly unusual man.

Flopping myself down on the king sized bed I slowly open the envelope, pulling out the two pages of typed information sent to me by my client, including which section of the warehouse district to meet his people near, the price to be exchanged (which annoys me greatly when I see it's a whole two million less than what we agreed on) and what time the exchange is to go down at. Ten o'clock tonight seems so far away as I push myself back to my feet, stretching out my muscles and moving around the area of my room, mind working through the many plans for tonight's mission.

**(Nate)**

"Maggie, don't worry, I'll be home later tonight." I try to calm the woman on the other end. Maggie, my wife of over four years is entering her sixth month of pregnancy and can be a little bit moody. Of course having a husband who is out catching the more unsavory people in the world almost every night isn't exactly the most _calming_ of thoughts.

She knew what she married.

"Alright, I'll put your supper in the oven. Put Thomas on." She says with a sigh and I can hear the metal stirring spoon hit the cutting board. I roll my eyes and gesture to the phone. Kincade makes a hand sign before gripping the phone with an irritated growl.

"Yes Maggie?" he asks and I step over to my desk, fiddling with some papers and moving them around as I try to listen in on what my wife is telling my partner.

"I will ma'am. I'll return junior here safe and sound. Don't you worry." He says with a smile and a roll of his eyes. He thrusts the phone back into my hands and I clear my throat

"Maggie?" I ask cautiously and the woman replies

"Take care okay? I'll see you when you get home. Love you." She says and I nod, exchanging the affectionate words before hanging up. Kincade makes a snort and laughs with a few of the other IYS agents who are willing to help us. I frown at them and point

"Look, you guys have no clue how hard it is to deal with a hormonal woman, let along a _pregnant _one." I growl, much to the laughter of the other agents.

"Uhh, who wanted the profile?" I turn, finding a mousy type youngster standing behind me, his hands clutching a large manila folder. I reach out and take if from the boy with a smile before turning around to look at the other agents.

"Shall we see what our culprit looks like?" I ask and toss the folder to Kincade who catches it expertly. The older agent opens the file and displays a shockingly small amount of information. Slowly Kincade reads the thief's profile.

"Profile couldn't find a lot on the kid. Says here he's about twenty-five and around five foot ten. Weight unknown to due not having a reference photo, says he's had some kind of military training, but the origins and kind are unknown. Oh, we also have a psych flag, says here that this kid is a bit paranoid. Fun." The last word is spoken with sarcasm and I sigh, running a hand through my hair

"Okay, yeah, so we know basically crap on this guy."

"Seems that way." Kincade chirps while the other agents mumble. Noticing the dissention among the ranks Kincade quickly follows up with

"But nothing IYS's finest can't handle right? Not the first time we've met a paranoid thief." He says honestly and the others seem to take a bit of heart from the man's words. I nod as Kincade moves to spread out a map of the warehouse district.

"Okay, let's take a look here and try to see where we should set ourselves. I don't think I have to tell you boys but this is going to be a long night." I nod my head and lick my lips while the others all groan or pull their pants up higher on their hips.

"Alright this is where I think the exchange will take place." Kincade begins and I allow myself to become absorbed into the trap, my tactical mind working through all the ways this might go down.

**(Eliot)**

For seeming so long away ten o'clock arrives swiftly and I find myself crouched down in one of the long shadows of one of the many warehouses. Idly I pick at the dark grey material and the black vest, finding it too hot for such clothing. The biggest mistake made by most thieves is that they wear all black, thinking they'll blend it perfectly well but in reality shadows are made up of all sorts of shades, dark grays, varying shades of black, a little bit of dark green. I dress to accommodate these variations so I can better blend in when I have too. The jewels are pressed against my thigh in the deepest part of my cargo pants, their coolness rapidly disappearing as they press against my leg. A car's engine alerts me to the fact that my client has arrived and I pull my cap down further and peer out around the edge of the building. Bright headlights etch through the darkness of the warehouse yard, broken lamp lights refusing to even spark in the darkness. The soft screech of breaks as the luxury SUV slows to a stop, the interior light coming on. A moment later the doors open and my client steps out, his expensive shoes making a soft clicking as he walks around to the front of the vehicle. Gently I easy myself up from my crouch and walk out towards the man, his two bodyguard snapping to attention, guns cocking. I cringe at the noise but keep walking arms held loosely at my sides as I stand just beyond the reach of the headlights.

"Mr. Spencer." The Australian greets, his accent edged with a hint of disdain. I glare at the man for a moment before nodding my head

"Anderson." One word, my voice belaying nothing but icy cold and mild annoyance

"You have my merchandise correct?" he asks and I nod, crossing my arms slowly and shifting into a casual stance, basking in the worried glances the two bodyguards exchange as their gun hands shake a bit.

"You are not getting your jewels until I get the full amount we agreed upon." I growl at the man and for a moment Anderson looks taken aback at my brashness. I don't care, no one short hands me on my payout.

"I explained to you that with the ruckus you made and the amount of attention you brought down that the price was adjusted accordingly." Anderson tries to argue but I hold up a hand, making all three men jump.

"No, see this game your playing Anderson if starting to make me angry and your boys there know what I'm like when I get mad. It's not a pretty sight, so I suggest you give me my full amount." I snarl angrily at the man and his hired soldiers. Anderson clears his throat and touches his collar in a suspicious move and I'm instantly on edge, my eyes roaming over the area looking for anything out of place. Body tensed and ready to fight I clench my hand against the desire to grab my knife and _get the hell outta here_.

"Now you see Mr. Spencer, I know a bit about you. Some say you're some kind of superhuman, impervious to bullets and not killable. People within the exclusive circle talk about you like you're a god or something. Skilled in many ways and unafraid to do anything with nerves of steel." He smirks then, the expression putting me on high alert.

"You know what I think? I think your nothing but a sniveling little brat below his station. You're a worthless thief who isn't afraid to do the hard jobs because you're not afraid to die. You are either very stupid Mr. Spencer or have no heart." I snort at the insults spewing from the man's mouth.

"Listen Anderson, I don't give a damn what you and your friends think of me, you find my skills usable and I like the feel of your money. It's a business partnership and like every business partnership I am free to walk away. If you don't give me my full amount I _will_ walk away from this and sell the jewels myself. It's for you to decide." I wait patiently as the Australian stares at me. I smirk a little and back a step away from the light, knowing that if there is a sniper somewhere I'd be too blended into the darkness for him to get a clear shot.

"Alright Mr. Spencer. Let me just get the remaining money from the interior of the car." I watch the man warily as he pulls open the door and leans in, his body tensing as he screams

"NOW!" without much of a thought I duck back into the shadows, my knee catching on an uneven board as gunshots ring out and give a cry as a bullet slams into my shoulder, nearly spinning me around. Gritting my teeth I make it to the shadows and breath heavily, wincing at the throbbing from both shoulder and knee. Knowing I won't be able to outrun anyone I look around for something to hid myself in or behind. There is nothing within this area and I curse to myself, using the wall to bring myself to my feet. Using the same grimy wall I use it as a guide to walk as silently as possible away from the scene. I can hear Anderson cursing his hired gunmen and then the slamming of doors as the SUV is revved up. Pressing myself into the shadows I watch angrily as the Australian drives away with my money, his cheating causing me this pain.

Oh this man was going to die.

I groan and ease myself out of the shadows a step or two into the illumination of a lamp. Risking a glance down at the shoulder I curse loudly this time at the mangled flesh and blood welling up to travel down my arm and drip off my fingers.

Oh yes, lots of pain in Anderson's future.

I use the anger to keep going, keeping to the shadows and back to my truck. Anger and adrenaline can only keep you going for so long though and as I approach the hole in the fence I had used to get in my vision starts to blur and the ground sways under my feet. Recognizing the signs of blood loss and shock I try to continue but before I can get under the fence my mind releases control of my body and I slide boneless to the ground. I curse myself as the blackness closes in.

Great, just great.

**(Nate)**

The exchange was taking forever to happen and I shift anxiously as the thief and his client exchange words. The thief stands just outside the beams of the headlights, his muscular body outlined only slightly. They seem to agree upon something as the client moves to the back of his car. The loud 'NOW' sends the thief moving away quickly but not quickly enough as gunshots ring out. Kincade has the radio to his mouth and is issuing the other agents to stand down. The fact that the exchange didn't take place leaves us unable to pursue the client. Without much ceremony the client and his guys pile back into the SUV and make a quick escape. I watch for signs of the thief but there is no movement.

"Come on, let's see if he's still down there." Kincade says, prodding me in the side. I follow the older agent down from the weigh station we had been hiding out in and quickly make our way over to the last place the thief was seen. Pushing on out flashlights I hear Kincade give a low whistle

"Damn, they got him alright." He says, shining the light on small drops of blood and a smear on the wall. I wince at the still drying blood

"He couldn't have gone far." I remark and drop the light down to the ground, pointing to Kincade at the trail of blood droplets. Together we follow the trail, my light on the blood and his on the area ahead of us.

"Well, he almost escaped." Kincade remarks and I glance up from the trail to see where his light is pointing. A crumpled form is in the dirt right in front of the hole in the fence, fingers out stretched in a clawing way for freedom. I sigh and walk after Kincade watching tensely as the older agent rolls the body over revealing a youthful face covered in stubble and dirt.

"Damn… that's the guy I ran into earlier today." I curse and Kincade throws me an annoyed look. I shrug and raise the radio to my lips

"Radio and ambulance, we've got our thief."

**Author Note: **This would have been up sooner but I had a bit of a rough weekend. A friend's horse had a heart attack and died in his pasture on Saturday, he was only five years old. I went up to see him, having taken care of the horse while my friend was away at school and it was pretty hard seeing him like that and then because the ground up here is frozen at the moment they couldn't bury him right away. So, I apologize for the delay and will post again this weekend.

_In memory of: _

_IMA SVS Scooten Jet_

_2004 to 2009 _


	4. Chapter 4

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note:** Thomas Kincade came out of my talking through AIM to a Thomas and my eyes stopping on a picture of a horse named 'Cationic Kryptonite', Kincade for short. Thus the man's name was born! I didn't realize the name was connected to a person until Insomniac-Angel mentioned it. No it wasn't on purpose just a matter of putting something on my wall and someone I'd been talking too together. Morralls I have been keeping up with your Renshaw job and I thank you for your interest. I appreciate all of you who have deemed this story worthy of being read and reviewed! Thanks so much!

**Chapter Four: Great escape **

**(Eliot) **

I come back to myself in the way I think most unconscious and world weary people do. My body jolts like it was electrocuted, arms automatically tensing against the binders. I growl loudly and swear, knowing I was in deep shit. Venturing to open my eyes I'm greeted with the generic ceiling tiles of a hospital and curl my lip at the sharp scent of antiseptic and sickness. My shoulder protests and for a moment I stop my thrashing and take stock of the situation. Obviously I passed out at the fence and someone found me, probably the cops and thus I am here. My shoulder is on fire but my thoughts are swimming through the pain killer fog, trying to connect. I'm handcuffed to the bed, so they've figured out who I am and judging by the sharp clicks on tile floor instead of the squeak of rubber tells me I'm about to get a visitor.

"Awake finally?" I throw a look over at the door, finding two men dressed in blazers and slacks entering my room after flashing identification to my guard. One is an older man with graying hair and eyes like molten steel, hawkish in features and tall and lithe. The other one is a bit stockier than his older partner, hair a slick black or dark brown and eyes a calculating blue. I notice on both hands the men wear bands and know they have family waiting for them somewhere. I glare fiercely at them, allowing my eyes to convey my annoyance as I refuse to answer.

"Look son, we know who you are and we know that you stole two jewels from the local show. Now, we're agents with IYS, the insurance firm who insured the jewels." I curl my lip at the 'son', anger and annoyance searing through my veins, making me jerk at the restraints, hands curling into fists. My shoulder screams for me to stop but I ignore it, centering my eyes onto the younger man. He seems slightly taken aback and I resist the urge to laugh, almost _smelling_ his nervous fear rolling off him. On numerous occasions I've been told I have a way of projecting _danger_ and the threat of pain onto another person.

I like having this ability.

"You were found in the warehouse district bleeding in the dirt with a bullet hole through your shoulder and a torn ligament in your knee. We called it in, you should be thanking us." The younger one remarks and for the first time since they arrived I allow myself a laugh, noticing as the sound echoes in the small and barren room.

"Thanking you? Why should I thank the men who just signed my death certificate?" I growl harshly at the younger man, seeing him square his jaw, determined to not be seen cowering. The older man coughs and I bring my gaze to settle on him

"Where are the jewels." He asks simply and I shrug, feeling the gauze and tape pulling over my injured shoulder but continue to stare unblinking at the man.

"I don't know." The other man smirks and cocks his hip before crossing him arms.

"We have ways of getting you to talk. How about a padded room with an 'I love myself jacket'"? he asks slowly and I see the knowledge behind his eyes, glancing down at my fingers I find them stained black from the ink and know they now have my name, medical records, military service conformation.

They know _everything_.

Then again, they can't know _everything_ simply because the man I was before ceased to exist the moment I was put into service with my special ops unit, my name, my information was erased. I know this because I watched the computer nerds that the military keeps locked away from the world _erase_ me and rebuild me as someone else. To the world outside I am nothing but a military number, long eradicated in the mountains of Peru when the unit fell under heavy enemy fire.

Their fishing.

I allow myself a rough bark of laughter before settling my gaze on the two men.

"Try your worst. If you have all my records then you would know I spent fifteen days in training to withstand any kind of torture you can dish out. If you had my records you would _know_ other things about me. You see agent –whatever your name is, that padded cell you just threatened me with would allow me to converse more freely with the voices in my head." I smirk dangerously at him, lowering my voice so it's more chilling. I can see it's having an effect on the younger agent as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. The older man laughs then and shakes his head before leaning in close to my ear, whispering

"Eliot Spencer, you're under our jurisdiction at the moment as a thief. We're not exactly like cops but we can make your life a living hell if you don't co-operate." He says and I shudder at his proximity, arms straining against the binders keeping me from attack this arrogant man. He pulls back and smiles smoothly at me and I snarl back at him

"What are you going to do? Piss in my apple juice? Maybe switch my green jello with the yellow kind? Please, you're all armatures." Finding the annoyance fleeting across the older man's face I settle back into the pillows and turn away from the men in a universal signal for 'get the hell out'.

"We'll be back tomorrow and then we'll get down to where you stashed the merchandise you stole from our company." The older man growls before leaving, the younger man in tow. Just before the door closes I call out

"If I am still here by tomorrow." The door shuts and locks behind them. I wait four seconds, counting off in my head and feel my hackles rise, knowing I'm being stared at by my guard officer before he retreats back to his post. My eyes slide open and I grin manically to myself.

" tisk, tisk, leaving your pockets so unattended." I mutter, gripping the pen I had lifted from the man's pocket. Single handedly I unscrew the pieces, tossing aside the ones I can not use and then set to work. The idiots here used soft restraints on my hands which, if the person in them is in a lucid frame of mind enough to escape, can be manipulated into stretching simply by flexing one's hand and moving it against the bed rail. I growl as I work at the strap, feeling the burn on my skin as the rubber takes off some hair. Lack of hair is a small matter when your life is on the line. I'm reward myself with a rest after gaining the release of the first strap, letting my body settle for a moment before reaching over and undoing the other one. With accuracy born of practice I quickly yank out the IV drips, not worrying about the blood welling up from the puncture marks before swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My feet touch the cold tile floor and it sends a chill up my spine. I take stock of my injuries, the shoulder isn't much of a problem just an occasional ache but my knee protests loudly to any weight. Growling I lean back and stretch the offending leg out before me, finding the knee cap a massive collection of scrapes and bruises. Rolling my eyes I tell the joint to shut the hell up and hobble to the window.

"Well damn, this is too easy." I mutter to myself before glancing around the room, finding my personal belonging bag stashed in the corner. Grimacing I stealthily maneuver my way over to the bags and gather them up, thankful that their not the thin plastic that makes a lot of noise. Ducking into the small alcove that is considered a bathroom I quickly change out of the obnoxious hospital gown and into my regular clothes, growling at the bullet hole through my shirt. Looking through the cabinets I find band-aids and quickly dress the bleeding needle marks before dumping the rest of the medical supplies into the bag my clothes were in.

Never know when sterile gauze pads and tape might come in handy.

Now for the hard part, the escape.

Back at the window I study the pane up and down, finding it to be a solid piece of glass, not meant to be opened, probably shatterproof kind too. Grumbling I dig around in my pockets, finding that they took my knife as well as the small cutting torch I usually carry.

Well damn, what now?

"If only I had a motorcycle and a barbed wire wall to cross. That'd be easy." I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair before sighing, mind racing to come up with a plan. Obviously it won't be a plan of getting out of the window and jumping down to the roof and then down to the ground. Ideas bounce around in my head until finally I'm frustrated enough and grab onto the nearest heavy object – a nightstand of sorts – and launch it at the window. The crash the nightstand makes as it hurtles through the air is almost deafening and I duck away to avoid any flying glass. My shoulder is bleeding again and I curse myself for my brashness as the guard at the door fiddles with the keys. Looking back I smile and wave at the young officer before launching myself out the window, rolling with the momentum as my legs give out with the impact of hitting the roof. I breathe in a shaky breath, looking up in time to see the young officer aim his weapon while shouting into his radio. I don't give him a chance and make a break for it, finding a service ladder down to street level I take it, the metal creaking under my speed and weight. My boots hit the hard ground of the trash strewn ally way just as the sirens of the police reach my ears.

The shadows are welcoming as I hobble into them and disappear.

**Author Note: **Grrr… I don't like this one. If anyone catches the 'motorcycle and barbed wire wall' reference I will give you a cookie! Please review, it is the bread that sustains the authors! Can't wait for next week's episode, I'm pumped because it looks like Eliot gets the crap kicked out of him. That makes me smile. I'm such a sadist….. see you for the next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note:** I don't know what I was thinking about that reference. A lot of people I encounter these days don't know who Steve McQueen is, never mind The Great Escape. I love that movie and for some reason thought it made sense for Eliot. Anyway, as promised I give you all cookies for your correct answers.

**Chapter Five: Threat from within**

**(Nate) **

My phone blares obnoxiously from the desk as I am brushing my teeth, the foam dribbling down my chin I hastily wipe at it before the phone goes to voice mail. Leaving the toothbrush on the sink I spit out the paste before hastily grabbing the device.

"Yeah?" I ask, annoyance flooding my tone. Kincade gives a gruff laugh on the other end.

"Good morning to you too." He chuckles and I frown, usually Kincade waits till I'm at the office to tell me the plan.

"Bad news kid, our thief escaped last night." I'm shocked into silence by those words. I fumble for thought before gasping into the phone

"But… how? He was _tied_ to the bed." I snarl and I can almost hear my partner shrug from the other end.

"Get to the office as soon as you can, I'll bring the bagels." He says before hanging up. I turn, finding Maggie already setting out my blazer on the bed, freshly ironed, her stomach swollen with our son or daughter. She smiles and glances up at me, seeing my expression the smile falters and her eyes grow wide.

"What is it? What happened?" she asks, a hand going protectively to her stomach. I put the phone down and shrug, shaking my head and trying to plaster a smile on my face. I walk towards her and pull her in close before kissing the top of her head

"Nothing, don't worry." I tell her softly, rubbing my own hand across her stomach, feeling the warmth through the nightgown. She watches me anxiously as I finish my morning routine and follows me down the hall, her steps light behind me.

"I made you a lunch, left over meatloaf and potatoes." She smiles, handing me the tuber ware container to me. I smile and nod again, slipping on the still warm blazer. I lean down for a kiss again and draw away, pulling open the door.

"Maggie, keep the doors and windows locked today okay? I'll call you at lunch." I tell her and she nods sternly. I close the door behind me and wait, listening as the deadbolt slams home and the security chain is slid into place. I know Maggie is worried but there isn't anything I can really do besides get in my car and head for work, hopefully we'll catch the man again before he can do something dreadful.

**(Eliot)**

The hotel lobby is silent as I enter in the early morning hours. Stealthily I slip by the night manager, not wanting him to question my haggard and bloody appearance. My knee begs loudly for a rest as I lean against the elevator wall, finding little rest to the tired limb. My shoulder has long stopped bleeding, crusted over and hard to move. The elevator dings and I head wearily for my rented room, exhaustion flagging me with every limping step. Glancing up at the door I am happy to see my toothpick still in place and wordlessly punch the card into the reader, opening the door and stepping to the side. Although my body is screaming for rest and a hot shower I can't be too cautious, not with Anderson still sore about loosing his merchandise and the police looking for me.

I snort; being cautious is a second nature now.

No sounds from the interior of my room and I quickly step inside and flip on the light. My eyes scan the room, finding everything just the way I had left it. Tiredly I collapse into the nearby chair and ease my boots off, not caring if the beige rug becomes soiled with dirt and debris from my trek back here. The bastards who found me confiscated my truck, leaving me with only my feet to rely on.

"Poor thing, all alone in some dusty car lot." I mutter to myself and try to work up the will to move from my claimed spot in the chair. My fingers are tingling and are numb and although most people would be alarmed by this I shrug it off as being too much trauma and too little rest. Slowly I haul myself back to my feet and pick up my duffle bag with my uninjured arm, placing it on the bed.

"First, a hot shower, change of clothing. Take a look at what that hospital did and then some sleep." I rattle off to myself, putting my weight into the wall as I sway slightly. Vision blurs for a moment and I close my eyes.

"Crap." I barely whisper as the bed comes up to meet me, my body effectively shutting down.

At least I'm on the bed and not the floor.

**(Nate) **

"Last known location is the ally way behind the hospital. The guard officer says he saw the suspect jump from the shattered window and head off down a service ladder." Kincade finishes and I sigh wearily

"Okay, so what do we know about this guy?" I ask, heading for the white board with a picture of the man –Eliot Spencer – taped to the side and all knowledge or facts written out neatly. I study the phrases and words, including 'you're all amateurs' and narrow my eyes, turning back to the six agents gathered around the table.

"Eliot Spencer is a dangerous person. He blatantly looked at Kincade and I when threatened with the prospect of torture and practically _laughed_ at us, mentioned something about several weeks in torture training." I conclude, turning to study the young face once more.

"How is it that someone barely in their thirties knows how to play the field, I man in reality this kid should be out at parties, drinking away his early days and producing children, not out stealing high priced jewels and antagonizing the police. He has no fear, no emotion that I could see but anger." The other agents agree as I continue to stare at the photograph of the man while the other agents all talk behind me.

"I listened to the voice recording you boys took and analyzed it. He's got a southern dialect, easy mid tones and the classic drop off of vowels depicting someone from the Texas, New Mexico, and Oklahoma boarder. But, he also has a strange way of twisting some words in which he totally leaves out the R sound, which is a accent of the northern area. Basically he's got roots in the south but has travelled and can probably fit in just about anywhere by adapting his speech pattern." Agent DeFranco states, closing his file as I run a hand through my hair, eyes scanning the neat words Kincade is scrawling across the white board.

"So, we have to assume that this man can become anyone he wants and disappear into the crowd. Also, since we didn't find any jewels on his persons we have to assume he hocked them somewhere before he passed out." Kincade addresses the group, snapping the lid down on his marker.

"We went over inch of where you guys found him and didn't find any traces of the jewels." One of the field men says, tossing a bunch of irrelevant photographs out onto the table. I give a sigh and toss myself back into the chair.

"What about his client?" I ask and DiNoya moves in, taking over the board with all the information he found on Anderson.

**(Eliot)**

"Ow… shit." I curse, peeling back the bandages from my shoulder. Behind me the shower is running, the hot water steaming up the small room. Undressing had been a trick, my fingers shake from the simple act of undoing buttons while my body weaves, my knee threatening to buckle. Growling I lean in close to the mirror and examine the stapled edges of the wound. Some of the medical staples had come undone and are jutting out at weird angles. With precision born of strict control I remove the staples, the wound bleeding a little. My knee isn't much more than a bunch of deep cuts, one going deep enough to have required stitches. The joint was sore but tolerable and as I step into the shower I plan my next move.

(bar)

I really don't like cell phones, their obnoxious pieces of equipment but useful. My wounds are bandaged and I sit down on the bed, stripped to the waist and dial the number I know by heart. The other end rings when finally it picks up it's dead silent, I slowly speak into the receiver

"Jim Bean, Johnny Walker has need of your services." I state simply, using the old code and the connection dies. I flip the phone closed and count to four, reopening the phone when it starts to vibrate in my hand.

"Hey man, what do you need?" Rat's voice crackles over the line and I smile to myself. Rat is a friend of old, his skills as an informant for the 'dark side' far outweighs his strange sense of humor.

"I need some information. I got these two agents from IYS…" I trail off and hear the distinct noise of the keyboard clicking away wildly.

"I'm in, got pictures too. Description please?" he asks and I recall everything I can about the two men who visited me, a plan already forming in my mind.

**Author Note: **Sorry for the delay! I've been having a rough time with some real world issues! Please review if you like and I'll update again this weekend.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note:** I apologize for the horribly LONG time it's taken me to update this again. After the show ended so didn't my plot bunnies. (either that or they went on strike) and the issues in the Real World got a little more intense, leaving me very little time to write. As you can see, I am back however and I have a lot of ideas bouncing around in my head, perhaps a sequel to 'Decisions that I make'. Who knows, I thank those who have waited patiently for this story to continue and am going to attempt to finish it.

**Chapter six: Threat **

**(Eliot) **

Stealing cars was a fairly easy task, any thief could do it. Jacking cars was a youthful past time of mine and the skills I had learned and were taught have come in handy in the years I've become a specialist. I ease off the gas as I catch the tip of a cruiser behind a fence, looking for speeders. Knowing that the car I was currently in probably hasn't been reported yet I ease on past, watching the rearview mirror.

Nothing moved. I smile to myself and flip on my blinker, not wanting to give the pigs a reason to come get me. Glancing down at the paper of my thigh I glance back up at the road signs, finding the street. A classic city suburb all the houses alike and built back in the 1950's, their yards the same small patch of green. My lip curls with disdain, still not understanding how people could _live_ with so little space. Easing the car to a stop I read off the numbers and watch the house. There's someone home, I can see the shadow moving through the living area. With a nod to myself I pull the door open and grab my duffle bag, heading for the house. Knowing that the occupant might be the agent who attempt to interrogate me yesterday I head for the backyard, finding it fenced in with thick boards, effectively cutting off the neighbors view. My knee protest loudly to my crouched walk, stealth being important but I ignore it as I creep up onto the small deck and try to door knob, feeling the resistance.

"Of course." I mutter to myself and reach into my back pocket and grab the set of lock picks, their strong metal shining in the sunlight. The lock was pathetically easy to pick, probably been on the door since the house was built. The door eases open with a well greased _click_ and I silently enter the residence, the tile floor catching the heel of my boot and making a dull _clack_. I wince and listen, finding the footsteps above me, probably the master bedroom. Not heeled but not flat either.

A Woman.

Well shit, now what?

It has always been my silent promise to myself that I wouldn't harm a woman, no matter what the job required or who got in my way, harming a woman is out of the question. But this isn't the typical job, this job breaks the rules in all angles. I curse myself for my indecisiveness, the footsteps hitting the wooden steps. Scrambling I push myself back into the shadows of a stocked pantry, watching as the blond woman comes around the corner. Cursing again at the blatant sign of pregnancy.

Can't anything be _simple_ any more?

Eliot gives a soft curse and springs his attack, the woman whirls around with a loud screech. Eliot winces at the sound, feeling it jerk at his heart as he easily subdues the woman, pulling her arm behind her. Not enough pressure to do any damage but enough to keep her from thrashing around too badly.

"Are you calm?" I ask and the woman gives a quick nod of her head, her bright eyes wide with fear and anxiety, her breathing too heavy. I push down on my worry and explain in a low growl.

"I will release you. You are not to scream, you are not to call the police understood?" I growl and the woman nods her head once more, this time slower. I can see the thoughts flickering through her eyes. _I could scream and run, I could overpower him. There's a frying pan on the stove. _I try to not laugh, not wanting to alarm the pregnant woman and cause her more harm. I back off, releasing her arm as I did so. Like a startled deer the woman stares at me, her eyes moving around the room erratically, looking for a way out or a way to defend herself. I hold up my hands, displaying my lack of weapon.

"W-who are you." She stumbles, breathing still unnaturally fast, eyes wide and hands clutching the counter behind her. I stand still and carefully consider the question before answering truthfully.

"Your husband is Nate Ford right?" at her nod I quickly continue. "He's been looking for me, I decided to meet him on my own terms." I grab the purse off the table and toss it at her, watching as the woman catches it out of habit.

"Call him." I growl, watching the woman as she shakily withdraws the phone.

**(Nate)**

The office is a whirl of activity, the phones ringing madly and people typing on their computers. I leans back in my chair, the Spencer file open on my desk and rub my eyes. Kincade was off at a meeting with the respective owners of the merchandise and Blackpoole upstairs, leaving me to scan through the numerous files for anything that might help us find the thief's whereabouts. Glancing at the clock I find almost two hours have passed since my partner left and wince in sympathy for the man, knowing he's probably getting chewed out by not only the owners but the big boss as well. Straightening back up in my chair I'm about to grab my blaze when the phone perched on my desk begins to vibrate. Grabbing it I look at the caller ID and frown, flipping the phone open.

"Maggie? Are you alright?" I ask worriedly as her shuddering breath comes over the line. My eyes widen as she gives a soft mew of distress before a southern drawl resounds from the background.

"Nate, y-you need to come home. T-there's someone here to see you." She sobs into the phone and my stomach lurches as the southern drawl over takes his wife's voice.

"Yeah Nate. I think you should come home." I snarl into the phone, knowing the thief hasn't moved yet.

"If you hurt her you bastard I swear…" his threat is cut off by a rumbling laugh, cold and vicious.

"I'm not going to hurt her. I just want to talk. Get here, no partner, no cops and no backup or something _might_ just happen to your lovely wife." He snarls dangerously and I swallow thickly as the line goes dead. I flip my phone closed and bring my hand to my mouth, resisting the urge to hurl right at my desk. I stand shakily and grab my blazer, writing out a quick but cryptic note to Kincade I head out, my car keys clutched in shaking hands.

**(Eliot) **

The woman is watching me, her eyes narrowed and angry as we sit at her kitchen table. I study the mother to be, finding her to be a small woman, her shoulders narrow and features angular. The scowl on her face reminds me of my own mother's when one of us kids did something cross. I shift in my chair, trying to relieve the pressure from my knee and the woman jumps, her chair scraping the floor. I give her a lazy smirk before tapping my fingers on the table top.

"I'm not here to hurt you, I'm really not." I try to assure her but the weary gaze sharpens and I sigh, giving up. Returning to tapping a rhythm out on the table, waiting in the silence for the real reason for this invasion to arrive and the whirl of activity that will take place when he does come through the door.

"You're a little young to be a criminal aren't you?" her words startle me and I quickly look over at her, finding her stony expression the same.

"You're a little too motherly to be so knowledgeable about thieves." I counter, watching as she shifts in her seat, hand caressing her stomach for a moment. Her eyes darken for a moment before she responds back, this time softly.

"Why are you doing this?" I'm not startled by the question, having had to answer it before during the days in the Ops, the one question that in any language doesn't really have a worthy answer. I shrug and lean back in the chair, watching the woman skeptically.

"I need to speak to your husband." I start to explain but suddenly drop off, hearing the cry of breaks on asphalt. I stand quickly, ushering the woman to her feet and resist the urge to help her. A pounding at the front door and soon the whirlwind known as Agent Ford is sweeping through the front foyer of the house. I narrow my eyes and square my jaw, keeping behind the woman as the IYS agent comes howling into the room.

"Maggie! Get away from her you bastard!" he shouts and in a flurry of motion the man is upon me, his balled up hands attempting to make contact. I don't know what the issue is but I quickly stumbled away, my knee sending sharp pains up my leg and making me breath against the pain.

"If you hurt her…!" he snarls again, coming at me a second time his fist connecting once with my wounded shoulder. I give a loud shout and use my energy to tackle the man, sending us flying across the kitchen and landing in a heap by the door I had entered through.

"Nate! Stop!" I vaguely hear the woman, Maggie as Ford called her, yelling. Her cries making her husband tense above me as he drives an elbow into my shoulder once more, making me curl around in pain. I felt something tear just then and know the staples have either caved or been ripped out by the steady warm liquid soaking into my shirt. Ford straddles me, his weight normally wouldn't keep me down but exhaustion and pain rips through my body and mulls my thoughts.

"Maggie call the cops!" Nate shouts and I give a wild buck, trying to get the man off of me and escape, knowing that once the cops arrive I'll be inside a stone prison. Nate shouts something but I don't catch it, my world is starting to spin and whirl.

"Jesus where's all this blood coming from?" I hear Ford ask and that's all, the world darkens frightfully fast and I know no more.

**Author Note:** Oh no, what will happen next? Looks like ya going to have to review to find out! I'll update again soon, I promise.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note:** I was horribly disappointed in "The Tap-out Job". I mean I love the fact that it was about Eliot but I was totally bummed when I saw him without his shirt on. I didn't expect him to be hardcore ripped, but I was expecting something a little more than _that_. I understand he probably doesn't have a lot of time to work out with his record deal, leverage schedule and doing whatever else he does, but yeah I was disappointed. Although I did buy the episode from Itunes, so that goes to show what a hardcore fan I am.

Anyway, enough rambling from me. Onto the fic!

**Chapter Seven: Talk **

**(Nate) **

For people in my line of work the current scene goes against everything we've been taught. Insurance Agents are taught to not show compassion for those they chase, the thieves and criminals are scum that steal money and items from people who work for a living. So, when the younger man passed out on my kitchen floor I was more than happy to turn him over to the police and press charges, earning him _years_ in prison.

But I am also dealing with a hormonal wife.

Hence why the criminal is laying on my guest bed in his boxers with his leg propped up and his shoulder covered with pressure bandages. Frowning I find myself remembering as the man threatening my wife simply passed out and the amount of bright red blood coating the tile floor, making it slick. For everything I had heard or learned about this man I never expected him to pass out in my damn kitchen.

"How's he doing?" Maggie's voice startles me and I jump, finding her standing in the doorway. Although scared and in hysterics Maggie confirmed that Spencer hadn't threatened her and shocked me by saying he even offered to brew her some tea in order to calm her nerves. Of course I found this whole situation _insane_ and after reassuring her that I would not turn the injured thief over to the police she had went and laid down for an hour or so.

"No change." I stand and stretch, glancing down at the thief once more, finding the clear blue eyes open and wearily watching me. I roll my shoulders and pull myself up to my full height, squaring my jaw, suddenly annoyed with the man. Eliot gives a cough before a smirk crosses his lips.

"I thought we've been over this Agent Ford, you don't scare me and your not intimidating." He rasps as he rolls his head to take in the pressure bandages holding back the red blood that had coated my floor.

"Where the hell are my clothes?" he asks suddenly, the southern drawl thick as he pushes himself up, wincing at the stiffness in his injured shoulder. Maggie makes a move to help him but I quickly block her advancement with my arm. Spencer watches from the bed, a weary frown crossing his features but he doesn't comment, instead the muscled thief moves slowly and places his feet on the floor.

"Maggie, why don't you go and get Mr. Spencer his clothes." I suggest and with a stern nod she heads off, casting a worried look over her shoulder as she does so. I turn back and watch as Spencer removes the pressure bandage, revealing the harsh bruising and the torn edges of a healing wound.

"Why didn't you turn me over to the cops?" he asks and uses the footboard to ease himself onto his feet, wincing as his knee buckles slightly against the strain of his weight. He hisses and stretches the swollen joint before glaring at me. His eyes hold so much contempt and mistrust it's almost chokingly thick.

"You wanted to talk. I will hear what you have to say and _then_ make the decision to hand you over to the police or not." I wager, crossing my arms while Spencer simply watches me for a moment and I resist the urge to back away from his cold and calculating gaze. For a man bleeding and weaving on unsteady feet Spencer still has an air of intimidation whirling around him. The tense moment of silence is broken by Maggie's soft steps on the stair landing and I pull my gaze away from the injured criminal as Maggie steps through the doorway, the folded blue jeans and shirts in her hands. She smiles slightly and hands the man his clothes which Spencer takes almost sheepishly.

"Sorry ma'am for having to involve you in all this." He apologizes softly showing his decent upbringing as he eyes the room and the occupants in a moment of blatant embarrassment. I frown, finding this an odd turn from the man who was willing to bash my skull in a few moments ago.

"Uh Maggie, why don't you go start some coffee?" I offer and she nods her head, probably noticing the injured thief's apprehension. Once out of the room Spencer pulls on his pants, wincing as his knee protests, eyes focused on the task.

"Wait, I'll get a bandage." I offer, watching the shoulder wound bleed sluggishly. Spencer only nods, his face having grown pale but eyes still edged with the uneasy sharp edge. Going to the bathroom I quickly gather up the gauze pads and tape Maggie stores in the cabinets. Returning to the room I hand over the supplies wordlessly and take up my previous seat in the chair near the bed, watching as the specialist organizes the supplies and begins to wrap the wound. With a strange combination of skill and ease the young man works, his fingers deftly applying pressure where it needs to be and working quickly with wrapping and taping. In a matter of minutes the horrific looking wound is covered and securely wrapped and the man is pulling on the white tank stop and then the darker button down, his fingers shaking slightly while trying to do up the small buttons. Once clothed the man relaxes back for a moment, taking the strain off his injured shoulder muscles and sighing before looking back at me.

"I have a business proposition for you." He suddenly says, the edge back to his rough voice and I know the man is ready to conduct business. I lean foreword in the chair and rest my elbows on my knees.

"You work alone. Always have. Why would you want to involve _me_, the person who can put you away for the rest of your natural life?" I ask and see the defenses go up like an iron wall around the young man, his eyes narrow dangerously and his jaw muscle clenches, the tendon standing on in his neck.

"Because I'm a dead man." He says seriously, his eyes darkening dangerously as he stares at me. I frown at his words as he continues.

"The client I was working for double crossed me and tried to kill me." He snorts here, an unsteady hand rubbing at the knee injury. "He refused to pay my fee and because he doesn't have the items he hired me to get, he'll be coming after me." He explains, an edge of anger hinting on his words. I can see he's telling the truth, the look of someone lying is hard to detect but over years of speaking with criminals and working around them I've come to pride myself on the fact that I can almost always tell if what someone's telling me is complete bullshit.

"So, what's in it for me?" I ask, using my training to help me navigate this sticky situation. If I make it seem like I'm too eager to accept Spencer will back off, thinking I'll double cross him and flee, taking any chance of regaining the jewels with him. If I make it seem like I'm too indifferent to the situation Spencer will take his business elsewhere.

It's a doubled edged sword.

Spencer studies me for a moment, his eyes moving in rapid flicks of movement before he states simply.

"You get your jewels back, saving IYS an extreme amount of money and I'll give you Anderson, Australian collector extraordinaire." He offers, shifting his weight on the bed. I puzzle over his offer and quickly respond.

"What's in it for you?" I ask and lean back in my chair, arms crossing over my chest. Spencer cocks an eyebrow and narrows his eyes.

"Freedom. I help you take down Anderson and I get to walk away, simple as that." I laugh, shaking my head.

"That's not going to work." Spencer gives a barking laugh before shaking his head, long hair moving wildly.

"How about you give us the jewels and Anderson and IYS will get you a really good lawyer and maybe a shortened jail sentence?" I ask and now Spencer's eyes grow determined as he pushes himself to his feet, impressive for a man who just lost a serious amount of blood.

"I am not going to prison; you'll have to kill me before you get me behind bars." He growls out, voice dripping with threat. I stand also, rising to the occasion and squaring my shoulders. Spencer's short stature does nothing to keep the threat behind his stance and the crackling energy behind the cold eyes, he was ready.

"That can be arranged." I snap out, feeling the tension working its way up my arms to gather in my shoulders, fury at this man's gall to enter _my _home and threaten _my_ wife and expect to get off free making my hands curl into tight fists. Spencer seems to sense my anger and quickly moves back a limping step, his own body tensing for whatever I might throw at him, eyes watching me closely for any type of threatening movement.

"Nate-" Maggie trails off, her hand on the door jam of the room, her eyes wide at the scene before her. I glance at her quickly before looking back at Spencer who has backed down but still wearily tensed, his posture reflecting almost pure respect at the sight of the woman. I frown at this before looking at my wife.

"Coffee is ready, down in the kitchen and I found the salt and pepper in the cupboard by the door…" she trails off, shooting me a silent meaning. I give her a nod, understanding what she meant.

"Your partners waiting downstairs isn't he?" Spencer suddenly asks and Maggie's eyes widen and I try to keep the shock from showing on my face. Spencer only shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair.

"It was fairly obvious and here I thought you boys were trained in this sort of crap." He mocks for a moment and casts a sideways glance at me. I sigh and nod to Maggie

"Can you tell Kincade to stand down, we need to talk with him and I don't want to have to wait another hour for him to wake up in order to get him out of my house." Maggie nods and takes off down the steps and muffled voices from below confirm Kincade's agreement.

"Alright Nate, bring him down. We'll sit and chat, I want to hear what the kid's got to say as well." I nod and gesture for the injured criminal to go first. Eliot curls his lip for a moment before giving a defeated sigh and heading out of the room, his limp barely detectable. I stand at the top of the steps and watch his descent while Kincade blocks any escape he might make from below.

"Jeez boys, relax. Where the hell am I going to run without shoes?" Spencer drawls, his hands held steadily out from his body as he reaches the last step. Kincade makes to grab him but Spencer quickly evades the hands.

"Touch me and you'll loose your hand." He snarls dangerously, his cold eyes growing colder as he tenses up, watching Kincade like a cornered animal. Kincade glances up at me and I nod, heading down the stairs with the intent to diffuse the situation.

"Alright, calm down. We can talk this through okay? Just keep calm, Kincade leave him alone alright." I state and herd the two men towards the kitchen where Maggie is setting out the things for coffee on the table. She looks up quickly and eyes the looks on both Kincade and Spencer's faces before pointing to her sewing room.

"I'll be in there. I expect you three to play nicely alright?" she states and I see Spencer nod to the wishes, his eyes tracking her before settling on mine. I give him a dirty look before taking a seat at the table. Kincade sits by the back door and Spencer takes a seat across from me, his knee stretched out.

"Alright, I am willing to hear what type of plan you've come up with." I state and Spencer glances between Kincade and I, his eyes clouded with suspicion but he slowly drums his fingers on the table top and beings to speak.

**Author Note:** Ohhhh a partnership! I hope you enjoyed this chapter because it was a bitch to write, it really was. The ideas kept bouncing all over the place and I couldn't decide on how to work it. But alas, here it be. I would like to ask you to take the time and hit the button down there and drop me a line, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note:** Yay new chapter. I've been super busy with my new job (I work Saturdays at a Dressage barn) and trying to save money to get my stupid car fixed. Also the grandparents are up from FL this week and yeah…. Hectic. Anyway here is the story! I know this chapter is kind of short and I apologize.

**Chapter Eight: Don't make me kill you. **

**(Eliot)**

I sit back in the kitchen chair and watch the two IYS agents silently, determined to not be the first to speak. The older agent, Thomas Kincade glares steadily back while his younger partner Nathan Ford looks between us, his mouth slightly ajar.

"Alright, are we going to keep acting like to school yard bullies or get down to business?" he asks and I cock an eyebrow at the older agent, watching his stern gaze falter for a moment before he finally sighs and drums his fingers on the table top.

"why haven't you turned him into the police Nate?" Kincade suddenly whirls on his partner, making the younger man's mouth gape for a few minutes before he gestures at me.

"He has a business proposition, I don't like it anymore than you do Tom but we can at least hear him out." I resist the urge to applaud the agent, instead stretching out my stiff knee instead. I can feel Kincade's eyes flick over me for a moment like a humanoid lie detector before the agent shakes his head.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but what's your plan son?" I curl my lip at the 'son'. I'm not his son, I'm not even friends with the man.

"First off, don't call me son. Second I can help you get Anderson." I start, moving my gaze over to Ford who gives me a slight nod to continue. "As you know Anderson is one of Australia's biggest collector of fine gems and jewels. If I have to guess I'm going to say most of the precious stones in his collection are _stolen_. That's a nice bonus for you boys now isn't it?" I ask, watching as several emotions run through the dark eyes of the older agent.

_Anger, hatred, consideration, question_

"What would be in it for you?" He asks and I lick my lips, knowing I'll have to play this one a but more harder.

"My freedom. I'll give you the two jewels stolen from the sale and the means to take down Anderson, but in return I want you to release my truck from impound and let me drive away, no questions asked." Kincade snots and then lets out a bark of laughter.

"You don't _seriously_ think that's going to happen do you? You think that because you give us the merchandise back and one of the biggest known collectors of stolen items that you just get to walk? That may seem like a good idea in that messed up head of yours, but in reality—in this world… no that doesn't jive." He informs me and a flash of anger ignites my nerves, sending flashed of white hot through my body. I narrow my eyes and growl.

"Just for turning in Anderson you'll get a hefty pay off, why am I so important?" I snarl leaning in closer to the table. Kincade only smiles, his white teeth flashing in a predatory way.

"A hefty pay off, a bonus yes. But the satisfaction of not having to chase _you_ again, that's priceless Mr. Spencer. Nothing would make me feel better than your psychotic mug behind bars." He oozes and I slam my balled fist into the table top, feeling the table give a little at the force of my blow. I glare hotly over at Ford who watched this whole exchange without a word.

"Kincade, I think we should _seriously_ rethink our stand here." Ford finally says, reaching out to put a hand on his partner's tense shoulder. The older agent easily shrugs it off and settles back in his chair, an air of victory swirling around him. I bit off a snarling curse at the man as Ford tries to explain why taking my offer would be a good idea.

"Besides… he'll be back in the area, probably on another job." I nod to myself, having already been contacted for two other jobs within the area. Contact about but I have not given my promise and as things are looking now, I might not _take_ those jobs.

"How about this kid, you give us the stolen jewels and Anderson and we'll see where it goes from there." Kincade suddenly offers and I growl at 'kid'.

"We go by _my_ plan." I respond tersly and for a moment the older agent looks ready to protest but Ford seems to be ahead of him, quickly agreeing.

"Tell us what this plan of yours entails and what type of prep time we need." Ford asks, resting his elbows on the table. I cock and eyebrow and nod my head at the older agent.

"Got your phone?" I ask and the man nods, drawing the sleek black device out of his pocket and sliding it across the table at me. I gingerly pick it up and quickly punch in the number. Six rings later, Anderson himself picks up, his accented voice making me nauseous.

"Did you really think you were rid of me?" I snarl menacingly into the phone and for a moment the line is silent before a soft.

"_Spencer…" _ is breathed. I smile slowly

"Yes, Anderson I'm still alive. You see the attempt on my life not only failed but you've only made me angrier. I still have your merchandise, how about you give me my full fee, plus a bonus and I'll try not to break every bone in your worthless body." I threaten, making Ford's eyebrows go up and the older agent's face grow stern.

"And my merchandise?" he asks and I give a chuckle into the line.

"You _seriously_ think you'll still be getting that? How about this, _I'll think about it_, and tonight at eleven o'clock your going to meet me in the center of the park and I'll give you my answer then." His breathing had increased a bit and a breathless acknowledgement of the meeting crosses. Before I end the call however I quickly add in a steel edged voice, one that leaves no room for comment.

"If this meeting goes down the same as it did before, so help me they will _never_ find your body." I click the phone closed and toss it back at the older agent. I lean back and cross my arms, raking in the shocked looks of the two agents sitting before me. I glance quickly up at the wall clock.

"We have eight hours before this goes down. I suggest you boys do whatever it is you do." I nod my head towards Ford and his partner, watching as they slowly shook themselves out of the shocked state they'd fallen into. With a mild upturn to the corners of my mouth I reach out and grab my coffee cup, taking a long swig of the dark brew.

This should be good.

Now all I have to do is figure out how to get _myself_ out of this mess.

**Author Note: **alright, I know it was short but sadly this story will be wrapping up soon. I know, I know but sadly it must come to an end. Still have 2 more chapters I think. Please do review and drop me a line, I love hearing from you. I'll update again soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Dangerous Man**

**Summary: **(Before Leverage) Nathan Ford, up and coming insurance cop for IYS meets Eliot Spencer, hard edged retrieval specialist. The chase is on for Nathan to recover the stolen items and for Eliot to avoid getting himself into deeper trouble. Can they work together or will they end up tearing each other apart?

**Rating: **T (swears, blood, wound description)

**Author Note:** Yes… dropping off the face of the planet is a unique experience. Climbing back up is a bit difficult though. Wouldn't recommend it for the faint of heart.

**Chapter Nine: No shit… really? **

* * *

**(Eliot)**

Eleven o'clock approached quickly and it seemed before I could even get a word in edgewise the IYS agents had set up the sting. Not really happy with that, being moved around like a pawn in a chess game but decided to keep my protests to a minimum while in the Ford household.

In the car, heading for the meeting spot. Well that's different.

"Your boys better know what they're doing." I growl, narrowing my eyes as Ford slips in behind the wheel while Kincade takes his place beside me in the back seat, obviously his paranoia of my escaping wasn't reduced by my promise not to fling myself out of a moving vehicle.

"They've accounted for every scenario, trust me this will go down." Ford states, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel, belaying the fact that although his words were sure, he really wasn't on the inside. I give a chuckle and exchange a heated glare with Kincade.

"You don't sound so sure of that _Nate_." I quip, twisting the man's name. Between the two Insurance Agents Nate is the easiest to manipulate, to goad. Probably his status as a 'rookie' or just his nature but the man is far too serious.

"Listen, I believe we're doing _you_ a favor here. I could have had your ass arrested for B and E, theft, assault and half a dozen other crimes but I didn't." Ford snaps back.

"No, you didn't because in the end you realized _my_ plan was the way to go. You're worried that because you're going with the plan of a criminal that you'll _enjoy_ it. You're afraid you'll become one of me… a criminal." I state, staring into the rearview mirror as Ford's blue eyes snap to the reflective surface.

"I'm nothing like you." He snaps irritably and I can feel Kincade's body shift beside me on the seat but don't remove my attention from Ford.

"Oh you would like to think so. In reality we're all just simple businessmen, think about it. You boys are hired by a client of IYS to insure items and then investigate and return the items once they are stolen right? You make a living off of catching thieves and solving crimes with your fancy suits, clipboards and badges." Neither of them says anything. I take a moment to mentally kick myself for being so damn chatty but figure it's too late to clam up now and continue, a smirk pulling at my lips.

"Those in my profession are also hired on by clients, men and women who desire the same items you insure. I am hired to retrieve those items and then paid for my services. I'm just like you, just playing the opposite side of the fence." Nate snorts as he pulls into the large parking lot. My eyes scan the crowd of IYS agents and numerous State Police, a feeling of despair and disbelief filling my chest as my stomach sinks into my boots.

Well shit. This is going to be harder than I thought.

**(Nate) **

Leaning against the side of my car I watch as the Specalists pulls at the cuff keeping him tethered to the tailgate of his own pick up. The bright silver metal circling his wrist seems out of place on a man that young, his features and deadly blue eyes obscured by his long hair as he tugs viciously at the metal band. My thoughts wonder, mind trying to figure out what might have caused an intelligent man like Spencer to work the wrong side of the law. What would drive a man to reject the rules of society and become a walking vessel of danger and talent, skills and intellect?

"Hey kid." I jump as Kincade leans his long frame against the car beside me, his stony gaze taking stock.

"Don't tell me that what he said got to you." He laughs, risking a glance in the criminal's direction. Sensing eyes on him the deadly blue gaze lifts and locks on that of my partner, Spencer's scowl and drawn eyebrows giving him an almost sinister look as he holds Kincade's stare a moment longer before the older man is forced to look away with a shake of his head. Eliot stares for a moment longer before returning his attention to the cuffs, yanking at the metal in irritation.

"Just a bit maybe." I state, a shoulder hitching under Kincade's sharp gaze. The older man is about to give me a lecture, words forming on the tip of his tongue when a shout draws both of our attention.

"Hey! Stop him!" My eyes instantly fall to where Eliot Spencer, wanted criminal and deadly fighter was sitting just seconds before.

The tailgate was lacking a long haired human body.

But the cuffs were still there.

"Some of a bitch!" Kincade snarls and pulls out his radio while I take off, joining the local law in pursuit of the now fugitive criminal.

**(Eliot)**

If I was a gambling man I would say Lady Luck was sitting on my lap at this moment. If I was a gambling man I would probably turn around and taunt the officers now racing headlong behind me.

Good thing I'm not a gambling man huh?

My knee protests sharply at being forced to move in such a way but I ignore it and pump on the speed, wanting to get around the bend ahead. Most two time thugs would say to leap off the trail and hide in the bushes once you're out of sight.

Dumb asses, all of them and that's why they're only 'two time criminals'.

My feet take me around the bend and I scan the thick shadows of trees. Locking on a low Dogwood I shorten my stride and take the trunk with a flying leap. My arms tremeble from exertion as I haul myself further up into the tree, thankful that my dark clothing will shield me from the casual inspection of the pursuing officers. A mob of seven IYS agents and local law enforcement race by, their booted feet retreating around the next bend in the park pathway, their calls to split up heard easily in the mostly silent park. I wait for a few more minutes, listening intently for any signs of their coming back before easing myself down out of the tree.

"Didn't like the view I take it?" A voice asks and I whirl, my fists held ready for attack as I silently berate myself for not studying the surroundings before revealing my position. Nathan Ford, the torn in my side steps out of the shadows, his expression neutral. I smirk despite myself and narrow my eyes, not allowing myself to get comfortable and relax.

"Why'd you run?" he asks, tone gentle and even as he watches me.

"I don't follow _anyone's_ lead, but my own." I growl back, moving back a step or two. The desire to just _run_ from this man is so strong it takes every ounce of my control to stand before him.

"The plan would work." He insists, following my back step with one of his own.

"Yeah, for you." I scoff, flexing my fist and shifting my weight dangerously, allowing the tension and anger to coil in my muscles. Nate shifts his weight, eyes narrowing slightly as his hand gropes for his gun.

"I don't want to have to shoot you." Nate states firmly and I cock my head, allowing the long hair to slip out from behind an ear.

"What will it matter? According to your plan I would be the bait, caught already but allowed a little bit of leash. No, I am no one's _dog_. Looks like you're going to have to shoot me." I snarl and within the blink of an eye I'm on the other man in a flurry of movement. A fist connects with the pressure point on the agent's neck, causing the man to choke and sputter. The gun arm is immobilized and the gun tossed away as Nate's foreword motion is used to flip him onto his back. I scowl down at the gasping man, watching as his eyes begin to loose focus and finally close. Without a second look I turn away and push through the bushes, finding the correct path that will lead me into the very center of the park.

**(Nate)**

"Wait, I think he's coming around." My vision swims with colors and shadows as my neck throbs along with my heartbeat.

"Wha…" I try, voice rasping painfully. Waving away the plastic gloved hand I ease myself upward, surprised to find nothing else protesting painfully at the movement. Kincade kneels beside me, a pinched look on his face and for a moment the man seems to have aged several years.

"Damn kid, thought you were dead." He breathes and places a hand on my shoulder. I blink and bring a hand to my head, noting for a moment the bruises decorating my wrist in the distinct pattern of fingers.

"Heard the fight over your radio. He didn't rough you up too badly though." Kincade tries to smile and I nod my thanks to his admission of my condition. Looking around I find myself stretched out beside several other injured people, their faces showing the bruises related to a beating while several medics move amongst them.

"Wha…?" I ask again, gesturing woozily to the other men and Kincade gives a rueful shake of his head.

"Spencer got you and went to the meeting with Anderson. Once there though we all arrived in time to see the exchanges go down and rushed in to take control of both Spencer and Anderson." I nod and gesture once again to the injured and moaning men.

"Spencer's work?" I ask as Kincade nods, handing me a plastic cup filled with water. I sip at it greedily, suddenly very thirsty as the cool liquid soothes my pained throat.

"Yeah, he took out five guys besides you before disappearing with the money. We got Anderson though, but of course he's not saying anything beyond 'I want a lawyer'." Kincade chuckles briefly before his expression darkens.

"Sometime in the confusion of our arrival and his departure Spencer managed to escape without a trace, taking the money with him. We haven't been able to track him down." He states and I nod.

"We did a good thing." I state in a low tone, sipping at the water again.

"It may have been a good thing, but was it the right thing?" Kincade asks just as softly, his eyes narrow but with a far away look.

"I think it is… he's far to dangerous of a man to keep locked away." I reason and Kincade only chuckles.

"Yeah, can't have him knocking around the guards in a local prison now can we?" he asks with a shake of his head before pushing himself to his feet. I blink and push myself further up, grabbing onto Kincade's offered hand.

"I'm getting far too old for this bullshit." He states grouching once more about how much the business of Insurance Investigation is slowly becoming a young man's field.

"I hear ya." I retort and share a smile with my partner.

"Times are changing Nate, next thing I know I'll be reading about you being a criminal." He barks, easing himself into the driver's seat of the sedan. I tap a rhythm on the hood of the car before taking my place as the passenger.

"I'm not a thief."

"No, but you sure think like one."

* * *

**Author Note: **Final chapter up next weekend. I promise.


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